


Blue and Black Skies

by Island_in_the_Shadows



Category: Daredevil (TV)
Genre: Angst, Bittersweet Ending, Elektra Natchios can be good, End of DD S. 2, F/M, fleeing, not Defenders compliant, slightly OOC, the couple that kicks ass together stays together
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-18
Updated: 2018-06-18
Packaged: 2019-05-24 18:58:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,267
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14960238
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Island_in_the_Shadows/pseuds/Island_in_the_Shadows
Summary: Elektra didn't die, and now she and Matthew run like he had promised. And they make a life with each other as best as two broken souls can...





	Blue and Black Skies

**Author's Note:**

> This is one of my bunny babies and I have already posted it through tumblr. This pair needs a bit of love so hopefully that's what I've given it. Feel free to hit me up on tumblr @ island-in-the-shadows  
> -M
> 
> Soundtrack for fic:
> 
> Malibu- Miley Cyrus (wrote it mainly while listening to this; sorry if I ruin the song)  
> If Only- Gin Wigmore

 

**“What if, from now on, wherever you run, I run with you.**   
**I don’t know what we are together and if we have any chance in the future —**   
**but I do know that I’m free with you. Like with no one else.”**

 

And it wasn’t like before, because this time they _did_ run together. They had conquered the impossible together. And when they ended it atop the roof, they didn’t know what to do or say but follow through with the promise to run. It hardly mattered that he didn’t have a passport or that he was leaving everyone behind with no explanation. It didn’t matter that she couldn’t maintain the tight control on her father’s assets that she had wanted to have. They grabbed things in a hasty and haphazard manner before they found themselves on a jet and disappeared.

  
She took him to an actual beach. Since he had never left New York, he’d never been to one. He could get a slight idea of the view, but the surroundings were almost paradise. The grainy feeling of the hot sand underneath his feet was both disarming and enchanting. And the heat sunk into his skin as she wrapped her arms around him from behind. She hadn’t lied when she said that this life was fantastic. This wasn’t the way he would have ever pictured he’d experience it. Although, honestly, he never thought he would.

  
He turned towards her: “Was this your idea of a sexy place to hide?” Her bell-like laugh made him smile, “This is just the beginning, Matthew.”

She moved around towards his front and kissed him. He could taste the salt in the air and on her lips. He was intoxicated by the smell of jasmine in her hair and the surf and driftwood a few paces from where they stood. She grasped his hands and playfully pulled him towards the water and then pushed him in.

She laughed as Matthew chastised her for pushing him. She didn’t care. She had him. And they were free —even if for a while. They had to forego her usual places but the Hand would hardly know or care that Clara and Jack Brown had rented a shack in the Caribbean amongst the palatial homes of the ultra wealthy. They hadn’t even flown directly. But after some time, they “settled.” She had said that she would die in the suburbs, but this was an island full of little things to discover…and steal the occasional bauble just to mess with people.

Much to her surprise, though, her favourite thing to do was spend time with Matthew at the beach. He was still getting his sea legs and it was so fun to try and catch him unaware. It usually ended with her being flipped onto the sand, however. She couldn’t get enough. In a way, it was ridiculous, really. They were acting like teenagers who had the whole world at their feet and not like two people running from a secret, murderous cult. But here…they couldn’t touch them. They wouldn’t dare. She didn’t care how many other Nobus she needed to dismember, she would do it. They weren’t going to use her and they certainly weren’t going to take Matthew from her. Nothing ever would. Not again.

The thought prompted her to throw herself at him and kiss him violently. They could both drown for all she cared. But there was no way anyone could take this from her…from him…from either of them. They came up for air and she bit his shoulder.

“I’m not going anywhere,” he said.  
“I know.”

It wasn’t up for debate. But they still wound up fighting on the shore and getting revved up enough that they broke a few things in the rental home before they fucked roughly against a wall. And when the fog of ecstasy was lifted, he caressed her cheek softly and it was everything to her because she felt…good. She felt that _she_  was good. He did this to her. Disarmed her with something so simple and reminded her that she wasn’t alone. That he knew her completely and wouldn’t run away. That she was loved. She looked at him with kind eyes,

“I love you, Matthew.”  
He smiled, that brilliant infuriating smile, “I love you too.”

Before she knew it, they were in Madrid and they held hands as they drunkenly walked from bar to bar around the Plaza Mayor. And those late nights led to her exerting her violence under the guise of his predilection for justice. Same as they had done since they had left New York. She would like to say that nothing had changed between them, but it had. It was new and odd and wonderful, even if she didn’t want to admit to it.

Underneath their explosive passion, there was substance. She discovered it one late morning as she awoke amidst the Spanish heat to find she had buried her face in his neck while she slept. Their legs were messily entwined and the sheets were sticking out at odd angles. But he was there…with her. And a foreign tenderness bubbled in her chest as she took in his sleeping form and felt no desire to wake him. She just saw him as he was: both innocent and violent…his angelic face relaxed while nearby, a bruise had blossomed in all it’s tyrian-purple glory. She had never been more in love and it frightened her more than she could’ve thought possible.

He would never tell her that her heartbeat and her breath were the best lullaby he’d ever had. That when she woke, he was on the fringes of consciousness. But he didn’t care to get up or to ruin her moment. So he feigned sleep for her. Because even if she thought he deserved better, he knew what she didn’t. That she was it for him, no matter what he had told himself or how many times he had tried to deny it.

But the tender mornings never changed the passion or deterred the violent nights. And they ran…and they ran…and they made a life together on the run. They lost all sense of time and despite the lack of logic in it, it was paradise. The sky had never been more blue…

* * *

 

She gasped as she felt the life draining out of her. The sky was pure ink above her and Matthew held her. She had told him that this was not the end and though her eyes were now closed and she could hear his grief, her mind was elsewhere. Because there he was, spitting out saltwater in the Caribbean. And he was nursing a bruise while his limbs were wrapped around her in Madrid. And he complained about the beer in London. And he was kissing her in Paris. And they got drunk for the hell of it in San Sebastian. And they got lost in the market in Tunisia. And they ran through Machu Picchu like children. He was there. He was hers. And not the night sky or any foreign entity could say any different.

Then her mind stopped. And he would never know that she had lived a thousand lifetimes with him in her final moments. He would never know that regardless of where they were or what they did, with him, her sky was ever clear and ever blue. That reality would not separate them because her last thought had been of him. That would never change… and her death was not the end.


End file.
